Miss Bishop, Waiting
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This poem takes inspiration from Elizabeth Bishop’s “In The Waiting Room” a copy of which can be read here.
I did not sit in a dentist’s office,
struck by the potent arbitrary presence of humanity,
but rather I laid in bed,
cozy in a Strawberry Fields room.
Seven years old, I stared into my white ceiling,
contemplating the darkness of death,
the possibility
of not existing at all.